


this fragile heart

by paragadesluster



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paragadesluster/pseuds/paragadesluster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - where your soulmates scars are yours</p>
<p>He felt instantly that he had known her forever - that in every life he had ever lived she had been there with him somewhere.<br/>Something in his mind and heart locked onto her and he knew he was home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Her

The first time she feels a pain that isn’t her own, she is six years old.

It was a blow to her face that knocks her down into the dirt and makes the small girl’s eyes fill up with tears. Her right eye swells up immediately and her caretaker has the lackluster duty of informing her parents that she, unfortunately, has a soulmate.

A soulmate that apparently takes a hard beating.

Her parents were worried; they were soulmates but they had hoped that their daughter wouldn’t have to bear the burden of it. Looking down at their daughter’s tears they knew that her life would be a tough one and as they grasped hands and saw the rigidness that came into her spine after a few moments, they suddenly knew that she could handle it.

Cassandra had heard tales of soulmates since she was born. Her parents were soul bound as were many of their friends. The bond was a two-way connection between souls that caused them to feel each other’s pain – in strong bonds the scars even showed up on each other’s bodies. It was thought that sometimes they also shared dreams but, no one had ever confirmed that for Cassandra.

The second time she felt her soulmate was when she was ten, and her body was too small to handle this amount of heartbreak.  
Her parents had been murdered by the king and she and her brother were being sent to her uncle to live until she could join the Templars at the age of twelve. Her brother was leaving to learn how to hunt dragons and Cassandra yearned to go with him.

She did not want to live in a crypt.

It was now, in her weakest moment that she felt the unknowable urge to laugh and run. She didn’t know where it came from but as soon as the thought entered her head she couldn’t stop laughing.

If any of the servants had seen her they would have thought, she’d gone mad.

She laughed at nothing whatsoever but it felt good. Good to finally release her frustration and her grief and if her laughs were on the verge of hysteria, who was there to tell her to stop?

Finally, after her stomach ached and her jaw was tired her laughs petered out and she felt something warm flush over her. Contentment.

She knew it was from him. Her soulmate.

He was looking out for her in the only way he could, and in her young heart she carved out a space for her to keep him with her always.

It was then that she fell in love for the first time - without even ever meeting him. He had heard her and helped her and she felt that warmth in the pit of her stomach resolve into a hot strength to carry on,

In that moment she sent a prayer to Andraste to keep him safe until she was strong enough to do the job herself. There was no use crying about something you couldn’t change.

With that she stood up and wiped her face dry on her tunic.

She had things to do.

Cassandra felt him intermittently over the years, her hands callusing over with her training with her sword and shield. It wasn’t until another Seeker Initiate commented about her hands that she really took any stock in the marks.

“You’ve been training with a bow have you?” Initiate Sommers asked from across the lunch table.

Cassandra glanced at him confused until he nodded at her hands.

“Those are archer calluses on your first two fingers. You don’t get those from the sword.” He spoke slowly as if she were dense. Cassandra looked at the fingers in question noticing for the first time in a long time that she bore yet another mark from her mate.

So, he was an archer.

Cassandra tucked the information away and shrugged at the Initiate who left the conversation where it ended.

Cassandra smiled to herself – at least he was a fighter.

It was a few years later that she was glad that he was or else she was sure he would be dead.

The day started off as normal, she had awoken from her dreams refreshed and feeling a happiness that wasn’t her own but she was glad to share in either way.

It was only later at training when she felt it. She was practicing a targeting drill that she knew by heart when she fell to the ground clutching at her stomach.

Her hand came away red.

He had been stabbed.

This had never happened before. She had never bled with him, except for the first punch so many years ago. It wasn’t the physical pain that cut her the worst. It was the feeling; something she had never felt before.

Anger, anger so intense it made her queasy and sick inside. She hated something unnamable, unknowable to her but she hated it so much. She could feel him fighting through the anger and the wound. Her body receiving more and more bruises and a cut across her shoulder that stung. She felt a rib break and something tear in her leg before she blacked out.

Her last thought was that she hoped her soulmate had made it to safety.

She awoke two days later in the infirmary. It wasn’t uncommon for soul bonds to end with a cut and a scrape but by the look on the mage’s face this was the worst she had seen.

She was old, older than her mother would be were she alive. Her face was kind though, and her voice was soft when she spoke to Cassandra.

“These bonds were meant to be a gift.” She wiped away Cassandra’s sweaty brow with a cool rag. “A light in the darkness, so to speak. To tell you that you weren’t alone in the world.” The woman glanced past Cassandra’s breast bindings to the second bandage keeping her rib in place and her stab wound from bleeding.

“Not this. Never this.” The woman stared at Cassandra pensively as if searching for words. Finding none suitable, the woman patted her hand on her shoulder and left her in peace.

Cassandra sighed and closed her eyes, relaxing into the cot beneath her. She needed to know if he was alive, it was possible – after all she was still here. Cassandra consciously evened out her breathing, bringing herself into the same place in her mind when she prayed.

She needed him to be safe.

She reached within herself, willing anyone or anything that was listening to give her a sign that he lived. She searched and searched and just when she was about to give up she felt it.

A tug at the back of her mind.

No, not a tug. A knock. Without any caution she found the door and threw it open.

A feeling of warmth coursed through her. Pure, unadultered joy filled her soul as her mind met his for the first time. She could feel him. His soul was hurting but her happiness at finding him alive was pushing out the anger and hatred. She felt all of herself embrace him, folding him within her soul as if she was tucking him away to keep him safe within her. Ghost hands grazed her face and body as she searched for a name, any name to lead her to him.

As suddenly as she had opened the connection - he snapped it shut.

Cassandra felt her soul reeling within her. Where did he go? She hadn’t found his name yet, how would she know him? Unbidden, a tear rolled down her cheek as she turned into her pillow muffling a sob. Had she been with him as he died? Was that what this sadness was? Cassandra didn’t know and as her heart beat painfully within her chest she closed off the feelings and pushed them away. She didn’t know what to do and finally her body decided for her, pulling her into a dreamless sleep that kept her pain at bay.

She didn’t feel him. She hadn’t realized that he was a constant in the back of her mind until he was gone from her.

It didn’t click until she overheard an older member of the order describing the same feelings that she had felt when his mate had died.

Cassandra sequestered herself in her room for the rest of the night, feigning sickness when someone came to look for her.

Her soulmate was dead. There was no light in the darkness anymore – not for her at least. She rolled over on her side, a painted mural of Andraste and the Maker catching her eye from out her window.

There was only one light she would follow for now and that would have to be enough.


	2. Him

Soulmates were a load of nug crap.

Or at least that’s what Bartrand always told him. And as a kid, Varric was inclined to believe him as he was older and to a younger sibling - that meant he was always right.

It wasn’t until Bartrand had clocked him in the eye when he was six that he realized that maybe his ass of a brother could be wrong.

His eye throbbed – the swelling causing him to lose his vision for a day or so till it healed. His father told him to walk it off and Varric had obeyed.

It had been the small tug in the back of his mind, an echo of his pain repeated immediately following his own that made him pause as a child. He hesitantly reached out towards that dull ache and recoiled back when he felt his own pain echo back through him.

Was this what a soulmate felt like?

But kids being kids, Varric ran off to play with his brother and the other dwarf children of Kirkwall. He had other more important things to think about.

It was only a few years later when he deigned to notice that he had bruises on him that he couldn’t remember earning that he started to really pay attention. He remembered feeling things that he had no reason to feel – intense anger at the dinner table, giggling laughter when he awoke in the middle of the night. He could even smell things that he knew for a fact weren’t around him – the smell of lavender when he was in Lowtown or cinnamon when he escaped to the coast. But, it was the bruises and aches he noticed the most. All facts that lead to one conclusion.

He had a soulmate, and she was clumsy as hell.

Of course he didn’t tell anyone about her or that he could feel her emotions clearly as if they were his own. His brother would beat him up and call him a pussy – which Varric didn’t know what that meant but he was sure it wasn’t complimentary.

This went on for years and he would make up stories about her day, why she was feeling the way she was and so on to pass the time when his father was too busy to deal with him.

But one night he knew something was wrong. She had been feeling horrible for days, his stomach in knots every moment until one evening his stomach filled with dread and he had – to his shame - vomited.

She was distraught. 

They were ten years old and to him – who had never felt such sorrow – it felt like he was dying. He hid in his room all day feigning sickness when his brother asked.   
He cried for a pain that wasn’t his trying anything he could do to help her – heal her.

Nothing was working.

He was falling into a pit of depression and there was only one way he knew how to pull himself free.

He thought of the last time he had laughed – really laughed – until he had cried. It was a year ago and he and Bartrand had gotten into a fight over something stupid and Bartrand had stormed off not noticing that the glass walls the chantry had installed for some reason or another was right in front of him.  
Bartrand ran smack into it without hesitation and Varric had lost his shit.

It was the look of utter astonishment on his face when he turned around that made Varric weep from laughter. He looked so…confused, as if he just couldn’t process that he had indeed just made a fool of himself in front of his baby brother and the countless other onlookers.

Varric had fallen to the ground, he was laughing so hard.

It had been a good day – of course, Bartrand had tried to kick his ass for laughing at him but Varric was faster than him and had escaped his wrath.

Through the tug of their connection he could feel her laughing and something warm bloomed in his gut that made him smile.

He had made her laugh. He could feel the sadness turn into a dull ache within him as he threw back the covers. 

He would be the first person to admit that he could be selfish at times, he liked having things to himself and his way and in his mind he looked out for only one person. Himself.

But now, he realized how much he…cared about this girl – his soulmate. He didn’t think that he could ever want to ease the suffering of another more than he wanted to ease hers. It was a strange feeling, and one that he wasn’t completely afraid of.

Shaking off his romantic thoughts knowing there was nothing to be done - Varric turned over and went to sleep.

The years passed quickly with his father passing away when he was eighteen and his brother taking over the family business. Bartrand had cooled towards Varric as he approached his mid-twenties. He gave Varric more and more say in the family business now that it was just the two of them.

Bartrand saw that Varric had a way with customers – he knew just when to compliment them or push for a lower price and he could always make them think that the Tethras family were not ones to give out discounts but, oh, just this once couldn’t hurt.

Within one year of their father’s death they had more than doubled the Tethras’ holdings throughout not only the Marches but also Ferelden.

With more influence and time than he knew what to do with, Varric started hanging out with members of the thieves guild. A group of people who were just his style.  
They had started off not wanting some dwarven noble snooping around but as soon as Varric brought back a cask of Antivan brandy his brother had received as a gift from some noble or another – they seemed to like him well enough.

They taught him things like how to slip a man’s purse from right under his nose and the best way to divide up stolen goods to sell them. Through the thieves guild he learned who the best fences were in Kirkwall and how to get them to sell for you. But most importantly, he learned how to fight from them.

They had said that he didn’t really have the reach for daggers – nor the speed. So they told him to get a bow and they’d teach him. And he learned – to the surprise of his teachers he was a natural at the bow. What had taken years for some of them to become proficient at, Varric took months.

His hands callused up – especially on his bow fingers. The archery could account for the buildup on his first two fingers but the rest? He really had no idea until it smacked him in the face like a wet rag – his girl.

A shit-eating grin lit up his face. Damn it all, his girl was a warrior. He couldn’t stop smiling the whole day after he had put the pieces together. The other rogues had   
called him on it but he couldn’t help it – his girl was a fighter and damn if that wasn’t the hottest thing he could think of for her.

His mind raced to create images of her – strong and courageous. Someone who liked to laugh. He imagined all of the mischief she got into, if the scars and bruises that weren’t his were any indication. She was active as hell.

When he could no longer keep the images in his head - he wrote them out, wrote out their story in a different world with different names. Each woman was her - in the distance of his mind he felt when she was angry or sad or exhausted. He penned each feeling to commit it to memory who she was through his lens. He thought ruefully of showing them to her someday – if and when they met.

If only he knew her name.

It was through these writings he discovered how…lonely he was. His soulmate – his person – was right inside his head but could be hundreds of miles away. It was…maddening, and truly the definition of so close, yet so far. He wanted to meet her and know her. He wanted to see her face and touch her skin and ask her what her favorite time of day was. He knew he was being dramatically romantic but he just wanted to not feel so damn alone. He had friends, sure, but the idea of her – his girl?

That was one thing he wanted more than all the gold in Kirkwall.

But time got away from him again, and the following winter he saw the true downside to having a soulmate. 

He was in Hightown with some of his rogue friends when he heard it. It was a gasp of shock and laughs of uneasiness coming from down a set of stairs. Varric – being nosy – headed for the disturbance and reeled back in shock. 

There was a couple…indisposed, right there on the sidewalk. Varric glanced around, they were on the opposite side of town from the Rose so he knew that that couldn’t be it. He heard the word ‘soulmates’ and saw a few people mournfully shake their heads before walking away.

Varric turned away with them, his stomach flipping unpleasantly.

Soulmates were said to call to one another across space – this calling, from what he understood from his books became unbearable to the people involved when they first touched each other. In other words – the couldn’t not touch.

In his mind he had known that as a fact. But to see it – so blatantly put out in front of him? He couldn’t imagine that loss of control around another person. This was supposed to be the person made for him from the Maker or whoever.

He thought back to the couple who he had turned away from. What kind of cosmic joke is it that their first time is when they are surrounded by strangers? It made Varric uneasy, he didn’t want that – to be so out of control that he couldn’t wait till they could, shit, he didn’t know, cherish the moment or something like that?

He didn’t want that for his girl – she deserved better than that. All the books said that it came from the first skin to skin contact with your mate.

He made trip down to the Lowtown market and spent three sovereigns for the best gloves he could find. 

Varric wore the gloves from that day onward.

The summer after his awakening to the realities of having a soulmate he met the bane of his adult existence.

Her name was Bianca and she was a traveling merchant’s daughter.

She was arrogant and rude – a straight up princess from the Kalnas surface dwarves and yet she followed him around even with his blatant disregard for her. That is until she saw him practicing with his bow in his courtyard. She started up a conversation about weapons that drew him warily in.

On the surface she had seemed content to play the dumb noble dwarf but her wit was almost as keen as his own and her opinions – while wrong, in his humble opinion – brought up interesting debate. She kept him on his toes which threw Varric. Most people were content to go along with his plans but with her – he was the one being dragged everywhere.

That summer they spent together made him question if she was his soulmate or not. Yeah, he had disliked her immediately but how was he to know the rules about all this – every book he read said that some soulmates react differently to each other.

He took his gloves off one day and reached out to cup her face leaning in to kiss her.

There was no instant connection, no fireworks or realignment of everything that made him him, but Maker it felt nice. She was warm and soft – sighing into his mouth and relaxing into him. Soulmate or no, Varric liked the feeling and from that moment on he was never far from her side.

It was only in the dead of night that he felt guilty over Bianca. He could feel her – his girl – and her contentment and exhaustion through their connection. He didn’t think that it was Bianca, there was just something different about them that he couldn’t put his finger on but he knew that they weren’t the same person.  
He knew that his girl would forgive him his weakness though. He didn’t know who she was and really there was stopping her from – something turned in his stomach at the thought of his girl with someone else which he immediately berated himself for.

Hypocrite. Nothing but a hypocrite.

He knew this thing with Bianca couldn’t last – she had a soulmate too she had informed him after they had fooled around for the first time. He had been stunned but rolled with it. It was nice to be wanted by someone who existed near him, after all. 

Near the end of that summer Varric had planned to propose a friends-with-benefits situation until either of them found their soulmate – that is until he woke up with a knife sliding between his ribs.

There were four of them standing above his bed hauling him out onto the floor and kicking him for good measure.

“Are you Varric?” One of them asked from somewhere on his left.

“You always stab first and ask questions later?” Varric shot back, his right hand trying to hold himself together his blood seeping from between his fingers and soaking his nightshirt.

His quip earned him another kick and a blow to the head that knocked him down. He was in trouble, Varric’s mind was racing from one possible exit to another all the while curled up like a ball on the floor trying not to pass out from the blood loss. He took in the four opponents noting that there were two archers standing the farthest from him, he heard drops of his blood hit the wooden floor beneath him as he lay there.

“Bianca Davri is not for you.” Another voice chimed in.

Well, shit, he thought as he made his way to a crouch, his side screaming in agony as he moved.

“I think that’s up to her.” He managed to say before he was pushed back to the ground and was kicked again – this time he heard a rib crack and Varric cursed loudly to hold back his tears. From his vantage point on the ground he saw that the closest attacker to him had a dagger in his boot if he could just reach it –

“She is promised to another, and the fact that a casteless dwarf like you would even think you were worthy of her is blasphemous.” The first authoritative voice spoke again all the while Varric was moving towards the dagger.

“You have been found guilty of meddling in a contract signed by the leader of the Kalnas himself and that crime is punishable by death.” A second voice chimed in as Varric made it to his knees slipping the dagger out of the mans boot. Varric made his move, stabbing the one in front of him in the foot in one thrust before turning on his uninjured side and hurling the dagger at the second man. His aim was true and the dagger sunk into the man’s throat - a red bubble of blood bursting from his lips as he fell to the ground.

Varric lunged for his bow and quiver by the door ignoring his injuries as best he could while ducking around furniture as the two archers opened fire. The one he had stabbed in the foot was limping after him. Varric turned and shot him in the neck as well, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud but earning a cut on his arm from an arrow that nearly hit its mark.

Varric took them down with the fastest spray of arrows he had ever shot in his life, the adrenaline rushing through him made time slow as he felled his enemies one by one.

When it was over, Varric slumped and dropped the bow, opening up his front door and staggering into the night towards where he knew his friends would be. They would help him – he was sure of it. He made it into the arms of one of his thief brothers before he passed out, his body unable to take any more.  
He felt like shit two days later when he awoke in his bed two to a sleeping healer on a portable cot and an empty room. His body was killing him but he figured the sleeping man had patched him up – with all the blood he had lost he hadn’t expected to wake up at all.

Varric closed his eyes and berated himself. He knew Bianca was bad news and he had still jumped at the chance of not being alone anymore – of not being physically isolated from everyone because he had a soul mate – someone he didn’t even know. He cared about his girl but was it wrong to want to be around someone who was actually there? Varric hadn’t thought so. He was twenty-seven for Maker’s sake, he deserved some happiness.

He moved to stretch a crick out of his back – his wound aching at him as if to laugh at him. He hadn’t wanted the pain of being alone and now here he was alone…and in pain.

Life certainly was hilarious.

He was distracted out of his self-deprecation by a small tug in the back of his mind.

Shit – his girl – she was hurt because of him. He didn’t tug back at her. He just…didn’t want to be comforted by her right now – he didn’t deserve it.

The tug was small but insistent a light tapping as if to welcome him in. Varric closed his eyes planning on ignoring her before he before he caved.

He was selfish after all.

He pushed against the tug and fell through a door in his mind that he hadn’t realized was there. He was immediately overwhelmed he felt…loved and protected. Somehow he knew that this was her – his girl and he was inside her mind. It was bliss incarnate, his heart was racing and he could hear a voice calling to him in an accent he couldn’t place. The tone was questioning but Varric was drowning in the euphoria of his soul meeting hers. He felt instantly that he had known her forever - that in every life he had ever lived she had been there with him somewhere. 

Something in his mind and heart locked onto her and he knew he was home.

That she was home.

She loved him. He could feel it, it wasn’t from the bond though, he could feel her choice to love him wholeheartedly. He could feel her concern and her anger that someone had hurt him but most of all he could feel her yearning for him.

Through the bond he could feel her body, the strength and grace of it all. The pain their bond had put her through cut him like a dull knife. He had hurt her because of this fluke of nature. He and his choices had hurt her.

He couldn’t even keep his soulmate safe.

Varric reeled back from her and the seductive lure of her soul, snapping back into his own body and slamming the door shut behind him.

She had been hurt because of his stupidity and ignorance – his soulmate – he had hurt her because he had been lonely. Lonely even when he had someone - in the back of his mind - there and…in love with him.

A wave of self-loathing moved through his stomach at the thought and he swallowed the bile that wanted to come up.

He rolled his head to the side trying to keep from vomiting when his eyes focused on the gloves he had bought so long ago from that vendor in Lowtown. They had been to protect her – his girl from himself.

Varric reached over and put them on vowing to never hurt her again, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. From now on, everything he did would be in service to her, the idea of her – even if he never found her.


	3. Her

She had never wanted this.

When she had uncovered the plot to bring down Divine Beatrix she hadn’t wasted time thinking of the consequences. She had only known that Beatrix was the Divine and she was a soldier – it was her duty to protect and serve the Divine always until she breathed her last breath.

She hadn’t imagined what everyone would call her.

Hero.

It made her…uncomfortable to be called by such high praise. She hadn’t acted alone, the mages and few other Templars that had helped her were also heroes.

But now she wasn’t just a Seeker, she was The Seeker.

The Nevarran Seeker who singlehandedly saved Divine Beatrix from the bloodmages by crashing a lesser drake into a High Dragon.

Cassandra snorted at the thought. It had been far less dramatic than the stories made it out to be. But now she was here, being honored by the Divine by being given an official title: Right Hand of the Divine.

It was…more than Cassandra could have dreamed of when she was a small child starting out in the Templar Order but now, here she was: a woman of twenty-eight being awarded a title that she was actually proud to own.

The ceremony was shorter than Cassandra had anticipated and before long she was prompted into the Grand Cathedral at Val Royeaux. She had been told that it was much like her induction into the Order – she was to sit and contemplate till dawn where she would be reborn again as the Right Hand.

She only wished…no, it did not do to dwell on things she couldn’t change. But no matter how hard her head fought for control, her heart wouldn’t listen.

She still mourned for  _him_.

There was a sadness within her that she couldn’t always ignore and now, in the quiet of the chantry she thought of him.

Their brief meeting after he had been wounded – she had not read of such things and now – years after she still had found no literature on the subject. Their joining appeared in no texts that she had found over the three years since she had lost him

For one brief moment she had felt…whole. She had felt a warmth bloom within her and until that second she hadn’t realized she was cold. He had been there, within her mind yet so very far away from her. It was maddening.

And then he was gone – like a burnt out candle in a window leaving only a trail of smoke to hint that there was once fire. It hurt more than any broken bone she had ever had or had since. Most days she just felt empty inside but there were some days where she could feel her heart throbbing in her chest as she stumbled through yet another day without him.

Cassandra shook her head to clear her maudlin thoughts – it did not do to dwell after all, and she wasn’t here because of him. She was here because she had forged ahead in the darkness cutting her own path. She smiled softly that he would be proud of her if he were able to see her.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the sun rising in one of the chantry windows – night had passed with her thoughts.

A cleric came to get her an hour later, helping Cassandra to stand on her numb legs. She was brought before the Divine and was made to kneel again. Prayers were said over her as she bowed her head, her eyes closed.

When it was done she rose as Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine. She was embraced by the Divine and the Left Hand – a woman named Leliana who had a warm smile and guarded eyes. There was food afterward and idle chatter where she spoke at length with Leliana who seemed to already know everything about her.

It was a pleasant way to pass the time but Cassandra could feel an itch in her bones to get moving towards the next problem – the next adventure and solve it. It was her duty now to go where the Divine called after all and she couldn’t wait to see where she would go next.

“Have you heard the stories coming out of Kirkwall?” It was Leliana on her left who spoke.

“A few of them, though I believe your information is more viable than my own.” Cassandra answered, well aware that there was probably very little the spymaster didn’t know about.

Leliana fed her stories about the problems with the Kirkwall circle and how a so-called Champion of Kirkwall seemed to be stuck right in the middle of it all. There were rumors of blood mages and a Tevinter magister visiting Kirkwall’s shores that made Cassandra raise an eyebrow. Why would a Magister go to Kirkwall? They were too strange of stories to be true only made stranger by Leliana passing a book to her later after the party.

“The Tale of the Champion by Varric Tethras. Is this the same champion you were speaking of earlier?” Cassandra asked flipping the book over to look at the picture of the author – a handsome dwarf with strawberry blonde hair and a cocky smile.

“The very same.” Leliana replied before excusing herself.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow as the redhead left her side. As soon as she got back to her room she began to read. The crowds of clerics and Templars who had come to celebrate the election of a new Right Hand were still partying for her – she could hear the faint sound of music coming through her open window.

No one would notice she had slipped out early.

The book was…good. Better than she had expected really. Tethras had an eye for adventure and a way with words that made her feel as if she was right there with them fighting off rogue gangs and tracking down bloodmages. The bit with the high dragon she didn’t quite believe, why would anyone ever go willingly to work in a place called “The Bone Pit”? She assumed that most of the outrageous bits of the book were added to spice up the story – but Cassandra felt as if it was unnecessary.

What really intrigued her was the love story between Hawke and Fenris. It was just so…good. The hatred of her magic and the reluctant acceptance of it to eventual, unimaginable love.

Her heart twinged in her chest when she read that Fenris had left her for a year. This Tethras didn’t know where he had gone but Cassandra felt for Hawke. It couldn’t have been easy – especially with a whole city of people depending on her. But he came back and they defeated Dinarious and the Arashok in single combat – which was again, hard for Cassandra to believe- a mage against a warrior? The only way to win would be to outrun them, which was an amusing picture she had to admit.

The book ended with Hawke being named the Champion of Kirkwall and Cassandra blanched, confused that there was no more story to read. She glanced out of her window surprised to see that night had well and truly fallen now and it must be only a few hours till dawn. Cassandra put the book down on her bedside table and fell asleep – her mind filled with a blonde dwarf and his compatriots.

The next morning, Cassandra was summoned to Divine Beatrix who told her that she was to travel to the surrounding circles and give her honest report on their status. Cassandra assumed that there was a bigger reason as to why she was entrusted with this but Cassandra was itching to get on the road and so she went, but not before she raided the booksellers for all of the novels authored by Varric Tethras.

The first few months she didn’t have much time to read during the day but by night she slipped into a world that was uniquely Varric’s. She was swept away by the storyline and the depth of the characters, she particularly loved Sword’s and Shields and was disappointed to hear that there was only one chapter published.

That serial featured a woman who reminded Cassandra of herself – aside from looks. Swords and Shield’s had a special spot reserved for it on her nightstand and on nights when she felt particularly alone in the world she would crack it open and read the best parts of the book which she had practically memorized by now.

It was six months after she had left the Val Royeaux that she headed for a small Templar training settlement for specifically Seeker training. She had been on the road for far too long and she was practically salivating over the thought of a hot bath.

The circles that she had visited were all bad in one way or another. Every circle had the same rough outline to them, there was a revered mother at the head of the chantry, a Grand Enchanter who spoke for all of the mages and then there was the Knight Commander who was in charge of the protection of the mages within the walls.

The idea was a three headed council to keep the mages safe from themselves and from the outside world but in every circle she had visited one of the three heads was out of balance. It was either the Chantry was too powerful or the Templars had taken away too many basic human rights from the mages.

Cassandra was under the opinion that they may be dangerous, but no one deserved to be treated like an animal for the rest of their life because of a happenstance of birth.

Cassandra said so in her letters to Divine Beatrix who took Cassandra’s views surprisingly well. Lately, however it seemed that she received word not from the Divine, but from Leliana. Cassandra assumed that the Divine was busy and put it out of her mind.

The Seeker settlement was bigger than she remembered from her training. It resided in the east of Fereldan about three day’s ride out from Denerim. Cassandra could practically feel the relief of her men when they saw the Templar holding on the horizon.

They were greeted at the gate by a young recruit whose eyes widened comically when the guard to her right announced who she was. Cassandra sighed internally, just wanting a hot bath and to sleep on something that was not her thin mattress pad.

They were ushered inside and Cassandra was shown to her room, the Knight Commander of Lockton was out hunting boar in the forest with some men and would not be back until nightfall. Cassandra was relieved to not have to make idle small talk for a few hours at least.

She called for a bath and as soon as the last Templar initiate had left she stripped and sunk into the steaming tub in the corner of her room. The water felt heavenly and she felt herself relax into the water slipping under the surface to douse herself completely.

She came back up and leaned against the back of the tub, feeling her mood growing happier by the minute.

As much as she loved the freedom the road afforded her, there was a small glimmer of herself that she wouldn’t acknowledge that wanted the stability of a home. Cassandra shook her head, the Order was her family, no matter what - she knew she had them. She had received letters from her Uncle’s servant once or twice a year – usually around her name day – to let her know the goings on in Nevarra. She never responded back, but she was glad to receive them even if her relationship with her Uncle was tenuous at best.

Her bath didn’t last long enough in her estimation, a knock on the door had her climbing out of the brass tub and into the clean clothes from her pack. She took a few minutes to open the door and when she did it was an initiate who gave her an invitation to feast with the Knight Commander who had just returned ‘victorious’ from the hunt. His words, not hers.

Cassandra accepted, her stomach rumbling quietly as she shut the door to her chambers. She toweled off her hair as best she could and tied it back from her face in a thick braid – the end reaching nearly the base of her spine.

She put on her boots and stepped outside her chambers – the initiate who had knocked earlier waiting patiently for her. He led her to a small dining room where the – she assumed from his seat at the head of the table – Knight Commander and a few other Templars were seated. They rose at her entrance and sat after she had been seated in the only open seat available to her at the right hand of the Knight Commander. To her right there was a Templar about her age who offered her a handsome smile as she sat.

The Knight Commander made for stilted conversation as all he wished to talk about was her mission – which she couldn’t disclose – or the hunt, which bored her after the first three minutes. He spoke about himself grandiosely which irked Cassandra to no end, by her estimation the man was a pompadour lay about whose only pleasure in life was hunting and being the big fish in a small pond.

When she could take no more of his posturing Cassandra turned to the man on her right who had chimed into the Knight Commander’s conversation every so often but otherwise kept to himself. Taking him in fully she admitted that he was handsome man with a strong jaw and clear blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. When she asked for his name she learned that his name was Regalyan and he was a Seeker on the hunt for an escaped apostate. He was stopped here for supplies and rest before traveling onto Denerim.

There was something about him that drew her in, his voice was soft but his wit was as sharp as a razor edge. His blue eyes were kind and he soon had her laughing at his ridiculous stories of his travels.

The food arrived – a filling soup that tasted better than anything Cassandra had prepared on the road for herself. The second course was a thick slice of boar and mashed potatoes seasoned with garlic and other spices Cassandra couldn’t identify but found delicious all the same.

Her conversation with Regalyan continued well into dessert when the Knight Commander – who was deep into his cups by now – demanded, loudly, that as the commander of this garrison she turn and speak with him.

Cassandra felt her spin stiffen as she turned slowly back to the Commander, her good mood vanishing with the plates of dessert.

“If you wish for pleasant conversation, Commander, I suggest you acquire a better temperament as your current one leaves much to be desired.” With that she turned back to Regalyan with a small smile which grew larger as she heard the Knight Commander stand up in a huff behind her and exit the room.

From then on Cassandra was much more relaxed than before, Regalyan and the other knight’s conversation pleasant to her and a diversion that she hadn’t realized she had needed until it was there.

Conversation eventually worked around to the story of how she saved Divine Beatrix, her first instinct was to shy away from the story. It had been warped and changed over the months that she was sure it wasn’t anywhere near the truth.

The gentle pleading of one of the younger recruits swayed her decision and so, painstakingly she told the tale to the enraptured audience. They often interjected questions as to who was there and things she hadn’t noticed in the moment but now, looking back she remembered more clearly. After she was finished they were all silent for a moment before launching into more questions about the versions they had heard and Cassandra laughed with the rest of them at the absurdity of the tales.

When conversation eventually trickled into a companionable silence many of the initiates excused themselves from the table till only she and Regalyan remained.

“Would you care for a walk around the camp?” Regalyan asked standing and offering his arm to her.

Cassandra hesitated, she enjoyed the man’s company but she had a mission to deal with and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by anyone – regardless of how handsome they were. Cassandra’s mind leapt to him for a moment and something turned in her stomach, she ignored it and stood taking Regalyan’s arm. She deserved companionship, just because her soulmate had died didn’t mean she had.

The air outside the main building was crisp, cooling her warm cheeks making her realize just how much cider she had consumed. She felt light, lighter than she had felt in a long time – years if she was being honest.

A cold wind rushed past her tossing her braid slightly making her lean into Regaylan’s warmth. She saw a smile bloom at his lips as they walked around the perimeter of the holding.

She asked him questions, any question she could think of just to keep him talking – his voice was low and soothing and she enjoyed the way it rumbled in his throat before it came out of his lips. He had a good humor telling her all about his sister Mara and the house he lived in as a child in Denerim. He told stories about all the trouble he got into with Mara and the neighbor boys who were basically family to him. His voice turned sad when his stories turned to how his parents died in the Blight and subsequent siege of Denerim – he told her about the Warden and how she saved them that day delivering the fatal blow to the High Dragon before taking off with a golden haired elf who seemed to melt into the shadows.

He said that that was when he decided to join the Order, sure that restoring order in any way was better than being helpless. He admitted that he didn’t want to join the Wardens because he was scared of dying from the taint, like his parents had. He didn’t want to be a darkspawn.

For every painful story he told, she told one back about her loneliness as a child and her training with the Templars and then the Seekers. The only thing she kept to herself was him, her soulmate. She didn’t want to see the look of pity on his face when she finally told someone that he was dead, that she hadn’t felt him in years. She didn’t want to live through it again.

The stopped for a moment behind the stables as he pointed out one of the constellations that she hadn’t seen for many years -  it was just about the right time of year and the griffon could be seen in the west above their heads. How small she felt under the soft glow of the stars, how little the actions of man seemed dwarfed as they were under the infinite space above her. She wondered if the Maker looked down upon them and their wars and laughed, how small our problems would seem to something so otherworldly.

A hand under her chin brought her back to the earth. Regalyn tilted her face and kissed her softly, his lips lingering a breath away from her own. They stood in silence before Cass leaned in and kissed him back. The kiss was…nice – sweet even, a warmth rolling through her stomach as she pressed herself close to him. He was so warm, his large hands cupping her face as he kissed her. Cassandra felt something within her relax into him as she deepened the kiss, her tongue lapping at him gently – she hadn’t kissed anyone in years and then it had been a drunken dare in her recruit day. The boy who had been her first kiss unknowledgeable and sloppy – nothing like this and Cassandra wanted to kiss him again as soon as they parted.

It was Regalyn who broke the kiss taking a step away from her. Cass shook herself out of the moment, silently berating herself for getting caught up with him.

“Cassandra – I – we shouldn’t…” He was floundering for words.

“This was a mistake.” Cassandra bit out the words without a thought, of course – here it comes – the regret and the excuses. Cassandra berated herself for letting her guard down.  

“What, no, I don’t – that is I need to explain before-”

“What are you trying to say?” Cassandra watched him flounder, squashing any bit of affection that may have grown for him over the course of the evening – why did he pull away from her? Was it something she did?

“I needed to-”

“Kiss me?” Cassandra butted into his sentence, she was confused and needed answers yet, at the same time she didn’t want to know why he was suddenly shy and nervous around her when all night he had been open and kind. It threw Cassandra and she hated feeling off balance.

“That’s not – I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you walk into the dining hall.” He stepped back into her space, grabbing her hand. She looked resolutely away from him, but allowed his approach.

“I can’t lie to you any longer, the kiss was just my selfishness – you are quite distracting - but before anything else happens I must tell you my reason for being here. With you.”

Cassandra gestured for him to continue.

“I am on a mission from the Divine to track you down and deliver a writ of command.” Cassandra’s head whipped up to lock eyes with him.

“You said you were tracking an apostate.”

“I…lied, I was unsure if you were who you said you were – I’ve only heard tales of the Right Hand, I had no idea that she would be you. You are so – anyway, I am sworn under orders not to divulge my mission but hearing your tales and your honesty at dinner I can only be convinced that you are indeed who you say you are.” He pulled out a sealed letter with the symbol of the Divine on the envelope.

Cassandra took it from him and opened it up, it was addressed to her. The contents told her that she was to allow him to accompany her on the remainder of her visits to the other Circles in an attempt to win over allies to the Divine who would be willing to give their voices to a meeting if it ever came to that.

The Divine had authority over all of the Circles under Andraste, why did she need specialized allies from them?

Cassandra stepped away from him and began to pace. What could she need them for? Unless there was something that the Divine was keeping from her – she was sure now that that was the case. Everyone knew that a fight between the mages and templars was not a matter of who would start it, it was when would it begin?

This letter was written in Leliana’s hand and sealed with a proper seal so she knew Regalyn to be telling the truth. But to what end? And why had he kissed her? What had that accomplished other than to put her off balance?

She stopped her pacing and turned towards him.

“We are leaving for the Lewan Circle tomorrow morning at dawn, you will accompany my men and I.” She didn’t leave any room for disagreement, her commanding tone usually enough to waylay any nay-sayers.

Regayln cocked a quizzical brow at her.

“And why would I be doing that exactly? My mission was only to track you down, Divine Beatrix left me with no other orders.”

“Because I left Val Royeaux with a mission to investigate all of the circles under the Divine’s authority, this writ is a new order from the Divine to also recruit allies to the Divine’s aid should she ever call for them. You are to accompany me and my men to the remaining five Circles and help me make connections for Beatrix. That is what your writ says.” She handed it to him and stepped back from him, felling herself close down. Of course he would only be asking her questions about herself and her life in an attempt to make her reveal if she truly was who she said she was. It was – childish – of her to think otherwise.

In her heart she knew she was pushing Regalyn away because she was scared with how he had made her feel. She had made a mistake tonight, drinking and talking – flirting – with him. But for one night she just wanted to feel  _normal_ – not broken, with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be. She wanted someone to like her and kiss her and make her forget.

And he had.

For one brilliant moment she had forgotten her loneliness and the seemingly blatant sign that hung above her proclaiming her a widow in all but actuality. She had never met her soulmate, but she had been his from the moment she was born and now tonight she had had another moment where she didn’t feel so maker – forsaken alone …

And then that moment had ended – like it always did. Cassandra felt tired, too old for her years and all she wanted was to leave this place and this man who made her snap out of the fog that she had been living in.

He had kept the truth from her, which in her book was as good as lying. He had lied and then kissed her and how dare he do so? She was the Right Hand of the Divine, and she should have known better.

“So the only reason you spoke to me at all was to ascertain whether I was truly the Right Hand of the Divine? Then why did you…” The words slipped out of her before she could stop them. No, she wouldn’t ask, she didn’t really need to know. They could still be professional even after their kiss, Cassandra would make sure of it.

“Why did I, what?” Regalyn questioned stepping towards her his hand slipping the writ back into his pocket, Cassandra did not back away.

“Why did you kiss me?” Her voice rang out, smaller than she would have liked but she had already asked, she may as well know.

“Because you looked sad and I wanted to make you happy. And that wasn’t the only reason why I spoke to you, you are a truly remarkable woman Cassandra.”

His answer was simple but Cassandra didn’t acknowledge him.

“I’m thinking about kissing you again, if I’m being honest.”

Cassandra felt a flush crawl up her cheeks, embarrassed by his candor. Why didn’t she just leave? Her feet felt like lead underneath her and suddenly she realized that there was nothing more that she wanted more than to kiss him again.

He stepped into her space and cupped her cheek once more, Cassandra growing fond of the action. His nose nudged hers as they shared the same air, blue eyes locked onto brown as she deliberated.

It was horribly unprofessional, they would be traveling together after all and when they ended it would be terribly awkward. Cassandra knew that this man wasn’t her soulmate but…was there a life possible after the death of your mate? For the first time, Cassandra hoped that there was.

She leaned in and kissed him softly, sucking his bottom lip between her own as she sighed into him. His hands came around her waist and pulled her closer, one of his hands tugging on her braid to deepen their kiss. He tasted slightly of strawberries that had accompanied their dessert and the bitter mead they had indulged in after dinner. He was warm and gentle and everything that Cassandra didn’t know how to be. She broke the kiss but stayed in his arms, her head resting on his chest as she breathed him in.

What was she doing?

She felt reckless and breathless and alive like one of the characters in Tethras’ books.

She stepped away with a kiss to his cheek and turned in the direction of the hall where her room was.

“I will see you bright and early, Seeker Regalyn.”

He smiled at her in the dim light of the moon.

“Till tomorrow, my Lady.”

\--

Cassandra awoke with a smile on her face, she felt rested and awake and ready to leave. She packed up her things, carefully storing Swords and Shields in her pack along with her other clothes. She dressed quickly after washing her face, grabbing a bite to eat in the hall’s kitchen before heading out to where her soldiers were camping out.

The horses were already saddled and ready to go when she arrived, their supply wagon restocked and her men milling around ready to be off as well.

Regalyn was seated on a gray gelding with a black spot over its eye. Her own horse, Bandit was next to him – his hands on her reigns. She was slightly annoyed that he thought she couldn’t saddle her own horse but she let her aggravation go when she saw the smile on his face.

The Knight Commander did not come to see them off, which Cassandra was sure was an insult but she had such a low opinion of the man that the dismissal was nothing of consequence to her. She was ready to be off.

She had a mission to do, and – she glanced over at Regalyn – perhaps it wouldn’t be as arduous as she had believed it would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra will have another chapter after this one as we know less of her origin and backstory leading up to DA2/Inquisition. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	4. Her

Cassandra was dreaming.

But, she really wished she wasn’t.

Rough hands sliding over scarred skin, she felt like she was burning up from the inside. All she wanted was more and more. She needed more. Her own hands ached to reach and touch but she was bound to the bed. A clever tongue was trailing down her taut stomach kissing every scar, every birth mark. Nothing was hidden from him.

She could feel the heat of a blush creep up her chest as he made satisfied sounds and a groan when he finally reached her core. She was wet and he loved it. She had thought about this moment from the first second they had touched. He laughed lowly setting off something primal within Cassandra when she bucked up into him. Wanting him to move, wanting him to touch. Just wanting anything. She needed to be touched like she needed air to breathe.

A quiet, ‘hold on beautiful’ and then she couldn’t think, her mind solely focused on his tongue and maker, what he was doing with it. Gentle firm licks, and groans of pleasure as he tasted her. She wanted his fingers – his tongue, gods anything. She wanted to be consumed by him, she wanted relief…she wanted to touch him.

Her groans reached a fever pitch as she wiggled out of the scarf that made up her bonds. With one final tug she wrenched her hands free as he slipped two fingers inside her. Her hands dove for his hair and for the first time she realized – Regalyn’s hair wasn’t blonde.

Cassandra awoke shuddering, her legs closing – her body chasing a fleeting feeling that passed over her like a phantom. She gasped her hand drifting down to the tops of her thighs before she stopped herself.

She was alone, no one would really know. But she knew that she wouldn’t be thinking of Regalyn and his dark looks – no her mind would drift to the blonde and she couldn’t do that to him – not even in her dreams.

She respected Regalyn – perhaps loved him – he inspired happiness in her that was certain, but love? She was unsure. She only had one real basis for love and that hadn’t ended well for her – and in any case that was an unstoppable force of feelings, a maelstrom of emotions that she had felt for her soulmate.

Regalyn was steady – like a strong fire offering the comfort of home just for a little while. A light in the darkness that said here, in his warmth she would be safe.

Cassandra turned over on her small bedroll and sat up glancing around thankful for once that Regalyn had left the tent before she had. She didn’t want to explain herself to him, she was sure he would see through it in a heartbeat.

Cassandra stood and dressed quickly – it was common of Regalyn to wake her later than she liked, some misguided effort to show that he cared for her but it vexed her to no end. She had her job to do and not even sleep was worth missing it. In some part of her heart – though she would never admit it – she was touched at the gesture. The last people who let her sleep in were her parents.

She had the vague recollection of a feeling of being held as she was rocked gently by a woman whose face surely was her mothers. The memory was hazy at best, but it was one of the better ones she kept of her parents.

Cassandra stepped out of her tent, her hands idly braiding her hair back and away from her face. It was getting far too long. If she didn’t enjoy the feeling of Regalyn playing with it as they lay in their tent she would chop it all off and have done with it.

It had rained sometime in the night, the dampness of the air just barely lingering in the early morning light of dawn. They were three days out to the second to last circle on Divine Beatrix’s list, if they rode all day they would reach a small town called Yamarin which would host them so they wouldn’t have to pitch a tent that night. What it really meant was a hot bath if Cassandra had anything to say about it.

Deconstructing the campsite took little under half an hour, Cassandra helping where she could and scarfing down some bread and meat for breakfast. She longed for something warm in her stomach but she wouldn’t fuss about it. Her men had eaten the same fair, if it was good enough for them then it was good enough for her.

Regalyn was waiting for her – as always – with her horse saddled and ready to go once the final horse was loaded with supplies. With a small smile for him she mounted up and they were off.

Around mid-day they stopped to eat in a small clearing near the river that would ultimately lead them to one of the final Circles that they must investigate. It was at this moment, as they were sitting on the ground eating their meager lunch that a raven landed on the ground at Cassandra’s feet.

The bird looked tired, its small wings tucking neatly into its side as it presented its leg to her messenger who detached the small scroll it carried with deft fingers. Her messenger tossed the bird a few dried cherries which it happily scarfed down.

The messenger turned the scroll over in her hands before handing it to Cassandra.

“Sealed and addressed to you Lady Seeker.”

Cassandra wiped her hand on her leggings and accepted the small scroll before walking away from the group. The note was sealed with the symbol of the Divine and she knew that it could only hold bad news if Leliana had sent a raven instead of a human messenger.

Cassandra slipped a thumb under the wax seal and read the message:

                _Return to Val Royeaux, Regalyn to continue in service to the Divine. You are needed._

_Leliana_

Cassandra felt a lead weight settle into her stomach. Something was gravely wrong. Cassandra moved into action, calling Regalyn to her side who paled visibly before her. He placed the note back in her hand and curled his hand around hers tightly.

“Go.” He said in a low voice, Cassandra nodded but hesitated. It was a three-week journey if she could find fresh horses in every town to get to Val Royeaux from where they were.

Time was of the essence. It was unlike Leliana to be so gruff in her notes, something bad was surely happening in Val Royeaux. It would take Regalyn a week at least to convince the Circle to go along with the Divine’s wishes as such - she was unsure how long it would be till she saw him again.

Feeling brash, she leaned in and kissed him with all of the feeling that she had welling up inside of her. Idly she heard some of her Templars hooting and cheering but Cassandra didn’t care how public they were being. She would be separated from the man she cared about for over a fort night – longer than they had ever been apart since they had begun their relationship just over six months ago.

She kissed him with all of the love she was able to give him in her quiet heart. He deserved it, he was good to her, perhaps too good to her considering how she woke up this morning. When she finally pulled away she leaned her head against his, just savoring his warmth for just one moment longer – taking this one bit of selfishness for herself.

The crumpled paper in her hand was a heavy weight that pulled her away – she had a job to do. She kissed him softly once more before backing up and repacking her horse. She grabbed her bedroll from the supply horse and extra rations to keep her from having to stop for food on the way.

When she was ready to go, she spurred her horse back in the direction they had come not looking back. An indolent fear settled in her stomach, would she miss him while she was away? She didn’t know what she feared most; that the ache would be too much to handle or if she would finally know for sure that she was incapable of loving someone as much as she had loved her soulmate. Would that make her a monster, to not miss Regalyn – not ache for him?

Cassandra pushed the thought away and guided her horse faster, this was no time for personal feelings.

-

The three weeks blurred in a haze of new horses and short hours of sleep, but she had done it. She arrived in Val Royeaux in the early morning of her twenty-first day away from Regalyn. Her horses’ hooves echoed strangely in the marble breezeway as she guided herself into the chantry stables.

A sleepy groom took her horse from her as a cleric took her bag and escorted her to her rooms that she had stayed in during her deliberation before she was named Right Hand. The fire was lit in her room and she offered a half-hearted nod at the girl who set her bags down before the cleric scurried out of the room.

Cassandra only managed to slip her boots off before she lay back on her bed, her body sighing in relief as she slipped into slumber.

She was awoken by someone laying their hand on her shoulder. The touch was gentle but it startles her none the less. She is quick to reach for her dagger but she realizes who it is before she can even graze the metal.

“Leliana.” She said sinking back into her bed, it was now late morning by the slant of the sun coming into her room and the red headed woman cracked a smile.

“Cassandra, if I wanted to kill you I would have merely sent an assassin rather than a raven.”

Cassandra let out a small laugh, her hands rubbing her eyes into wakefulness.

“Habit.” She said with a smile.

“It is good to see you my friend.” Leliana said grasping one of Cassandra’s wrists.

“It is good to see you as well Leliana. What has happened?” She sat up and leaned against the headboard.

Leliana was uncharacteristically silent for a moment before she spoke softly.

“It is Divine Beatrix, she – that is to say – her mind…I believe she is becoming ill-suited to the pressures of being the Divine. Her successor is the Revered Mother Dorthea of the Valence Chantry, here in Orlais. In order for Dorthea to ascend to Divine the Right and Left Hands must relieve her of her burden.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at Liliana, what did that entail?

“The paperwork is simple enough but a drop of blood is required as well as a day of recitation to contemplate that this is, indeed the best course of action.” Leliana looked out the window behind Cassandra’s head.

Cassandra visibly relaxed, glad that it wouldn’t be anything too terrible.

“According to Adrastian history, there has never been a forced removal of the Divine – but there is a writ within the charter laws for us to follow in this circumstance. This is why I needed you back here, Beatrix hasn’t been herself – she gets confused. One moment we will be talking about Circle reform and the next she will not know where she is or what has happened in the last hour.”

Leliana paused and reached for Cassandra’s hand again.

“Yesterday, when I walked into her room for a moment she…” Leliana blinked away a tear before she continued, “she did not know who I was. It passed after a few seconds but I could see it on her face. She had no recollection of who I was. Cassandra,” Leliana squeezed her hand, “this is what is best.”

Cassandra nodded gravely.

“You have my backing Leliana, always.”

Leliana smiled sadly.

“If it helps, I think she knows that her mind is failing her. I catch her sometimes writing notes to herself, to try and remember but…” She shook her head slowly, “nothing has helped.”

Everything moved quickly for the next day that it took to proceed with the paperwork required. It was simple really – all the clerics in Val Royeaux were required to be present at the signing of the writ and give their approval for such an act.

The drop of blood that Leliana spoke of was a blood oath that the Left and Right Hands were pledging their lives to this course of action – any harm that came from the action would be entirely on their heads.

They stood en masse in front of Divine Beatrix as the writ was signed and stowed away, until Dorthea arrived the responsibilities of the Divine fell on their shoulders. Leliana had been handling most of the Divine’s business before she was set aside. So, it only made sense that her taking on more of the duties of Divine was nothing she couldn’t handle and with Cassandra at her side they made a formidable team.

It took two weeks for Dorthea to arrive in Val Royeaux with a few of the chantry sisters from Valance. She and Leliana were drawn into seclusion with the Revered Mother as they set about their vigil to pray for guidance and strength for the new Divine. As they prayed together, a recitation of the Chant of Light from beginning to end was heard as clerics took turn reciting from memory every canticle included within the Chant.

It was the most relaxed Cassandra had felt in days.

The soothing words of the Chant seeped into her mind and calmed her racing anxiety. She had had doubts. Was deposing Divine Beatrix the best choice? Would the repercussions be too difficult to handle? Would Dorthea agree with Leliana and Cassandra’s stances? But here, in the soft light of the Chantry kneeling next to Leliana and Dorthea - she knew that her fears were unfounded.

This was the right course.

The day passed into the night and still the Chant continued until finally the Canticle of Trials petered out its last verse as dawn broke over the horizon.

It was time.

They were helped to their feet, as every cleric and chantry sister filed into the empty pews. They all stood in silence as Dorthea approached the alter. She sunk to her knees before it in reverence. Leliana stepped up to the right of the alter as Cassandra stepped to the left.

“Revered Mother Dorthea,” Leliana’s voice rang out in the quiet of the Chantry, “in accordance to Chantry law, the next in line for the honor of Divinity is chosen by the predeceasing Divine. You were chosen for your compassion to your flock and your strength of character in the face of opposition. Divine Beatrix thought highly off you and it is of no surprise that she wished you to carry on after her. This is the Divine’s symbol,” she nodded at Cassandra who lifted a golden amulet from a satin pillow on the alter.

“May its weight be a reminder to you of your duties not only to the Maker’s children but to your own heart and mind.”

Cassandra settled the amulet around Mother Dorthea’s neck and stepped away.

“The night of prayer and fasting has ended, and a new dawn has risen over Thedas. Arise, Divine Justinia - the fifth of her name.” As Divine Justinia rose, Cassandra took a knee and bowed her head sending up a quick prayer that Justinia would be able to handle the burdens of Divine. She knew that with Leliana by her side it would be far easier but it was entirely possible the new Divine would replace them – something she hoped dearly would not be the case.

Divine Justinia cleared her throat.

“Thank you for your belief and your prayers. I only hope to be as noble and as fair as Divine Beatrix was and as Beatrix so often spoke of – a Divine is nothing without her right and left hands,” she said gesturing to them respectively, “arise, Cassandra and Leliana and resume your posts.”

A weight fell from her shoulders as she rose catching Leliana’s eye who smiled gently at her.

The rest of the day passed quickly in a haze of well-wishers and prayer. Cassandra hadn’t realized how much she had missed the company of Leliana. In the half a year she had been gone she had had little time for conversation that revolved around anything other than Circle reformation or corruption in the ranks of both Templars and Mages - albeit of a different variety for both parties.

It was…relaxing to be around other women – not that she disliked her Templar brothers but she had missed the companionship of Leliana and the other sisters. It was only that night that she remembered that Regalyn should be headed back to Val Royeaux soon.

She had written him when she had arrived but had heard nothing back. It wasn’t until she had finally closed the door behind her and the festivities of a new Divine did she truly contemplate him. She missed him…in an offhanded way - but in no way that caused her great distress. He was more of an…afterthought.

She cared about him yes, but in the wake of the flare of heat and life and happiness that her soulmate had given her – Regalyn’s hearth was just that…a hearth.

She hated herself for even thinking it, but she knew in her heart that it was true. Was it right then to string him along knowing that she could probably never have that same depth of emotion for Regalyn as she had for _him_?

A selfish part of her wanted to say yes, simply to not have to be alone anymore but then she thought that if the situation was reversed she wouldn’t want to be someone’s second choice. She was disgusted with herself that a dead man who she hadn’t even met could still draw so much of her heart and soul away from a good, kind man who wanted her.

She curled her fingers through her hair and tugged trying to escape the cyclical thinking. She would end it with him, it was the only fair course of action for him. She would never love him as much as she had her soulmate – and that was that. It pained her, but it was the right thing to do.

Resolved, she changed for bed and thought of other things.

\--

Her plans did not pan out.

She was inundated for the next two days with meetings and with barely time to breathe or eat before she had to be at yet another meeting. Her Lord Seeker called upon her when he visited and she had had to drop a few meetings in order to speak with him.

It wasn’t a long meeting and she was able to end it early enough to walk to the rookery to draft a message to Regalyn. It was only when she was about to send the message that she hesitated. It would be wrong of her to distract him on his mission. He would be back soon and she would tell him then.

Coward, a voice in her head hissed at her, she pushed it away and stuffed the message in her pocket headed towards the new Divine’s personal meeting room. Leliana and Justinia had been in a briefing all day that Cassandra was to attend the moment she was free. Leliana had taken on more duties in the Divine’s absence than she had, it only made sense that Leliana would lead the discussion.

When she arrived, Cassandra was ushered in as Leliana and Justinia took tea. They broke off their quiet discussion as soon as she entered. Cassandra bowed to the Divine and sat when Justinia gestured to her.

“Ah, Cassandrra, we we’re beginning to worry.” Justinia’s soft voice spoke from over the rim of her tea. Cassandra smiled and took the tea that Leliana offered her, taking a small sip politely. Green Tea, one of her personal favorites.

“I apologize for my tardiness, the Lord Seeker called on me unexpectedly.”

Leliana and Justinia smiled at her.

“I was just updating Justinia on her new roles that she would be undertaking and reassuring her that we would be here to help her every step of the way.” Leliana spoke setting her tea down quietly.

“She’s correct.” Cassandra said, also setting down the delicious Green tea.

“We are your servants, bound to do your will.” Cassandra finished, smiling at the kind older woman.

“I was just in the middle of hearing about the unrest in the Circles. Beatrix had begun a plan before her decline…Leliana was just speaking of it.”

“The Plan of Inquisition.” Leliana intoned her eyes serious. “A plan to resurrect the Inquisition of old with a new doctrine.” She gestured to the large tome on the small tea table which Cassandra just noticed. It was an unassuming book but beautiful in its simplicity.

“A large venture.” Justinia spoke softly, revealing nothing.

“A needed failsafe.” Cassandra spoke seriously. “Should the worst happen, plans need to be in place.”

“If there is an Inquisition there must be an Inquisitor, and stop me if I am wrong but I am a little old to hold such an auspicious title.” Divine Justinia said smiling wryly.

“No, of course not Divine, we have a few other candidates in mind should this be necessary.” Leliana said with a smile and a shake of her head.

“Let us hope we can come to something less drastic, but you have my blessing should this prove to be the best course of action." The Divine sipped her tea and smiled again as she continued to speak. “For now, I would like to plan out a convergence of sorts – a meeting place where mages and Templars can come together and discuss – with the chantry as a mediator, to resolve some of these issues that you have brought to my attention Cassandra.”

“Where would we hold such a meeting?” Cassandra asked from her seat.

“I know of a place. It would require some finesse, but I believe that it could be done. I’ll send out my contacts immediately. I will keep you apprised if the situation.” Leliana piped up from where she was refilling her tea cup.

Their talks continued into the night as they eased the new Divine into her inheritance. It wasn’t until Cassandra was alone again that her hand drifted to her pocket where her note to Regalyn lay still folded up.

She had made the right decision regarding him, but it still made her heart ache in her chest at the prospect of her entire life spent in isolation. An image of a single headstone flashed in her mind before she pushed it away. She rolled her eyes at her maudlin thoughts, she wouldn’t truly be alone.

She had her faith and her friends in the Order.

…but somehow that excuse felt hollow. In truth, she didn’t want to be hurt again she reasoned out as she sat on her bed with her head in her hands. A glitter of something caught her eye as she turned to look at her side table. It was the novel Leliana had gifted her so long ago, _The Tale of the Champion._

Cassandra sighed and threw herself back against her soft bed. It wasn’t very brave of her to avoid possible pain just because it was easier. Angry, she crumpled the note in her hand and threw it out of sight, unsure once again how to proceed.

Her eyes darted to her window as she heard the bell toll an hour past midnight. She had a long day tomorrow.

Frustrated, she kicked off her boots and blew out the candle next to her bed and went to sleep.

\--

The next day was full of meetings as well until she was once more in Divine Justinia’s rooms with Leliana drinking tea as the afternoon crawled by.

“I’ve sent out missives to Kirkwall and to the Warden Commander’s…confidant who can get my message to her.” Leliana spoke as she sipped her tea quietly.

Cassandra opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door flying open behind her, the finely crafted door slamming into the wall behind it and bouncing back towards the intruder.

It was a messenger and he looked panicked.

Cassandra leaped up from her chair her hand reaching for the sword at her waist that was safely in her room. Cassandra cursed herself as she realized she didn’t even have a dagger on her. She felt Leliana and Divine Beatrix stand behind her as the messenger caught his breath.

Suddenly her thoughts turned to Regalyn but, no this messenger wouldn’t be so panicked if it was only for one Templar. Something turned in her chest, this couldn’t be good.

“Kirkwall has fallen. It happened two weeks ago. The Circle, the Champion – Knight Commander Meredith – she went insane. Kirkwall is in flames.”

The room was silent as a grave.

Leliana moved first, she stepped forward and took the messenger aside speaking quickly. After a few hushed moments Leliana dismissed the messenger who scurried from the room – Cassandra assumed he now had new orders.

“Knight Commander Meredith is dead and so is First Enchanter Orsino. The chantry is destroyed and half of Kirkwall is burned to the ground. Apparently, the Champion killed the Knight Commander after she invoked the Right of Annulment.”

Cassandra and Justinia were shell-shocked.

“When whispers reached us earlier this year that Meredith thought of calling a cleansing of Kirkwall’s Circle I thought she was overreacting – we’ve of course heard the rumors out of Kirkwall and the literature.” Leliana made a short darkly amused sound as she locked eyes with Cassandra.

“I will leave immediately.” Cassandra said, snapping back into herself quickly.

“And do what?” Beatrix asked bewildered.

“If events are beginning to unfold that will lead to the necessity of the meeting we were planning – that Conclave of sorts – then it is possible we will need an Inquisitor who may very well be dead. You need someone on the shores of Kirkwall who is unbiased and on your side first and foremost. I will go with your permission at once.”

Justinia and Leliana exchanged glances, and Justinia nodded.

“Go, with the Maker’s blessing, Cassandra. Find out what happened, and if you can, bring the Champion here for questioning.”

Cassandra bowed to her Divine, accepting a hug from Leliana before she sped out of the room.

\--

It took two miserable weeks for her to reach the shores of Kirkwall in a Chantry claimed vessel that had special permission to dock in the gallows of Kirkwall. She was met at the docks by a stocky, tired looking redheaded woman who escorted her and a rag tag group of tired guardsmen through the raveged city.

There was no untouched part of the city, that which wasn’t burned was a dingy grey color that was all that remained of the once burning fires. It was strange to be in a city that she felt she already knew through Messer Tethras’ books. Strange to see specific places now either burned to the ground or in disrepair.

Cassandra thought that she was walking through a nightmare.

The guardswoman who escorted her was even familiar to her vaguely, it didn’t click until the woman said her name and station.

“Aveline Valen, current Commander of Kirkwall.”

Cassandra fought to control her face. She knew this woman – knew personal, intimate things about this woman who she had admired from _The Tale of the Champion._ She hoped the redheaded warrior didn’t catch onto her, Cassandra was sure that she would never recover her dignity if she did.

They led her to a hole in the wall which served as a current command post for Aveline’s men – it looked to have once been a home but now was shoved full with cots and a few desks filled with paperwork.

“I need to speak with anyone who was at the slaying of the Knight Commander and the First Enchanter. Is the Champion Hawke here?” Cassandra spoke as the redhead sat down at a seat that was clearly hers.

The woman barked a short laugh and smiled wryly.

“I’d wring her neck myself if she were. No, she fled weeks ago with Fen- with someone else.”

“Do you have anyone looking for her?” Cassandra demanded, vexed that the Champion wasn’t here waiting for her.

Aveline raised one pale eyebrow.

“Do I look like I have men to spare on a folly of chasing after a woman – a mage – who doesn’t want to be found?”

Cassandra looked away.

“Is there anyone who I can speak to to understand what happened here? I am on the Divine’s authority.”

Aveline paused before she spoke.

“There is someone…but I doubt you’ll get much from him.”

“Take me to him.”

Aveline got up reluctantly and led the way.

\--

Their destination was a few blocks over in what looked like a makeshift infirmary.

“Can’t believe that this used to be a bar.” One of the guards behind her muttered in passing. Cassandra perked up at that – could this be the Hanged Man? There was no sign, it had either been burned away or it had never existed in the first place. The room inside was dismal, there were people shoved into every corner of space with ragged looking mages walking around helping those that they could and easing the pain of those that they couldn’t.

“He’s in there,” Aveline pointed up the stairs on the far side of the room, “he owns the place now – for some reason the original owner wanted to leave this wretched wreck of a city.” Aveline smiled wryly at Cassandra.

Cassandra frowned. Who would buy such a place, now of all times? Shaking her head she thanked the guardswoman and stalked toward the opposite side of the room knocking once, loudly, before opening the door at the top of the stairs.

The room was empty except for a large table and a crackling fire. Of all of the places that she had seen in this cursed city this was the only one so far that seemed untouched and looked almost…inviting. To her right was a messily made bed that looked as if the occupant rolled out of it only moments ago.

Cassandra made herself comfortable and resigned herself to wait for this person, they couldn’t be too far away if the fire was still crackling merrily in the hearth. Her mind turned to Regalyn – he’d be in Val Royeaux by now, she was sure of it. He would soon be reassigned to something else – that she was also sure of. Leliana would keep her apprised but still, she pushed thoughts of him away for now. She sat at the head of the table facing the door so that she would be able to see when anyone came in.

Restless, she re-braided her hair which had come slightly undone from this morning on the ship when she had originally fixed it. It was still damp in places but Cassandra paid that no mind as she tied off the plait with a piece of ribbon.

She took a deep breath and then let it out. Surely he would be back soon. Cassandra stood and paced in front of the fire, unable to sit still. Her mission was in tatters.

The main woman she was seeking was missing in action, Kirkwall would need to be rebuilt from the ground up – although that woman Aveline seemed to have most of the city well in hand, they would need aid from the Chantry if rebuilding was going to be expedited. The confidence of the Andrastians that had lived here was gone, and that Cassandra feared would be the hardest thing to rebuild. Then there was this man, would he be of any help to her once he knew who she was and what she wanted?

If he truly did have the information she needed she had to get him away from here and back onto the ship she had quartered on the Divine’s authority. There he wouldn’t be able to escape her questioning, but that would only be necessary if he was uncooperative – and if he was of any use.

The door opened behind her as she whirled, her hand reaching for her sword.

The man who opened the door didn’t notice her at first – it was only when she breathed out in surprise did he look up as he was closing the door behind her.

He would definitely know what happened to the Champion, she thought as she drew her sword knowing she couldn’t let him leave the room.

Varric Tethras looked down at the Divine’s sigil on her chest and gulped before he muttered something under his breath that she didn’t catch.

“Well, shit.” He said his eyes locked on her blade. He made no sudden movement but Cassandra still eyed him warily – of course it would be him, the man whose novels even now rested at the bottom of her traveling gear. Her face flushed red but she ignored it knowing she had a job to do.

“Varric Tethras, you are under arrest for conspiring with the Champion of Kirkwall in the destruction of the Chantry and the dismantlement of the Circle. I am to take you into custody until such times as my questions are answered.” She reached with her free hand to the length of rope coiled on her belt, she unfurled it with one flick of her wrist.

“Will you come quietly?” She asked him lowly, not sheathing her sword.

A flicker of amusement passed over his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“For you? Just this once.” A smile unfurled over his face. “Will I be allowed to bring any of my possessions Miss…?”

“Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker and Right Hand of Divine Justinia - Fifth in her name.” She tacked on all of her titles – trying to hide behind the pomp and circumstance so he wouldn’t catch how much his appearance had thrown her off.

“Varric Tethras, at your service Lady Seeker. About my things?” He said with a bow and a lavicious grin that made Cassandra warm in a way that she was slightly ashamed of.

“Take only what you need, no weapons.”

The dwarf nodded and lowered his hands, moving slowly to his things. From behind his bed curtains he pulled out a crossbow that was as large as his torso, Cassandra tensed raising her sword up in a guard position.

“I said no weapons!” She cried advancing closer to him in the small room.

“Bianca is hardly a weapon, she’s family.”

Cassandra must have made a confused face because Varric laughed somewhat bitterly and slung the crossbow over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving without her.” His voice was dark and firm.

Cassandra hesitated before she lowered her sword to its first position.

“Give me your quiver.” She said holding a hand out transferring her rope to her belt again. Varric hesitated and then sighed, easing the quiver out from under his pillow. She thought it odd that he slept with the deadly arrows so near his face but she didn’t comment on it. There was a haunted look in his eye that he had been through an ordeal in the past few weeks – possibly longer, judging by the shadows under his eyes she noted as he solemnly handed her his quiver.

He turned his back on her, grabbing a satchel and a few shirts from a trunk at the foot of his bed. He tossed things into the bag unceremoniously until the trunk was empty. When he was done, he turned and looked at her, an eyebrow quirked up in question as he eyed her still unsheathed blade.

Cassandra eyed him suspiciously and then sheathed her blade with a sigh.

“No funny business, dwarf.” She said with finality.

“Wouldn’t dream of it beautiful.” He muttered heading towards the door, his pack on one shoulder and his crossbow – Bianca on the other.

Cassandra tried not to blush at the fact that he called her beautiful, her favorite author calling _her_ beautiful. She followed him out the door where he waited for her before he turned the lock with a key that hung on a necklace around his neck.

“After you Seeker.” He said with a mock flourish.

“I’ll tell you where to go.” She intoned smiling at him mockingly, she knew that he might run if she turned her back on him for the slightest moment before she got him on her ship.

Cassandra nudged his shoulder with the palm of her hand, a spark of…something jumping out from her hand at the contact. She shook her gloved hand that seemed numb, did he have some sort of rogue trickery that would knock her out?

She stared hard at the dwarf who looked just as confused as she did. No, no trick then. She shook her hand trying to restore feeling as she motioned him forward – wary now, and not touching him.

She led him out past the main room where one of the guardsmen still waited for her. She nodded at him as Varric waived with an easy smile. The man frowned but didn’t stop her. Once outside she led him to the docks and on board her ship where his things were taken from him – to his protest as he was brought to the cabin adjoining hers.

One of her men stood guard outside his door as Cassandra collected herself.

Where to start? She glanced at her pack and dug through till she reached the bottom where her much-loved copy of _The Tale of the Champion_ lay wrapped lovingly in a spare shirt of hers. She needed to be aggressive, her mission depended on it. She was certain Var- the dwarf didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. Though he had indeed come quietly as he had promised – but she needed to know what exactly had unfolded in Kirkwall in the past year which was not included in the book she held in her hands. Where had things started to turn, was anything written in there actually true or was it all a fallacy?

Did Hawke start out intending to destroy the Circle and Kirkwall’s Chantry? Was she even a hero at all?

Cassandra’s fists turned white as she clenched the book harder in her hands. She had to know, not only for the Divine but for herself as well. Was this all just a fool’s errand?

Resolved, she exited her room and entered the next one preparing for her interrogation. The future of Thedas depended on her getting the answers she needed, and no lingering feelings would stop her – she wouldn’t allow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/U is an A/U - lots of this doesn't line up with cannon but I like my version better
> 
> See you soon!


End file.
